


they're not sutures

by coricomile



Category: The Craft (1996)
Genre: Gen, Mental Instability, Mental Institutions, Self-Harm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-16
Updated: 2014-10-16
Packaged: 2018-02-21 10:41:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 305
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2465297
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coricomile/pseuds/coricomile
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The walls are so, so white. Nancy dreams about blood on them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	they're not sutures

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Missy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Missy/gifts).



The walls are so, so white. Nancy dreams about blood on them. Thick, broad strokes of blood like paint in every crack and along every baseboard. She tries to rip her own arms apart to complete it, tears at her skin with her teeth and nails, but the nurses tie her down with cotton straps that barely chafe, let alone cut.

If she can just get the blood onto the walls, her power will return. She will feel the magic coursing inside of her, making her _more_. Making her whole. If she could just-

“You need to stop hurting yourself,” the nurse says. She adjusts the straps at Nancy’s wrists, leaning her body away from Nancy’s face. She’s got a scar on her stomach from Nancy’s teeth, round and thick. Nancy can still taste her skin at the back of her throat. 

“You need to shut your mouth, you ugly bitch,” Nancy hisses. 

Her mouth is dry, her tongue swollen and sore. She’s been biting it, spitting blood and saliva onto the floor and onto her bed. It’s not enough, but she has nothing but time. The nurse smiles tightly. Nancy wants to see her teeth, wants to pull them out one by one with her fingertips. 

“Darling,” the nurse says, cloying and sweet, “I have the power to keep you in here for a long, long time.” She switches the IV taped to the back of Nancy’s hands, efficient and quick, and sticks the empty bag into her pocket. “I’d behave yourself.”

Nancy jerks against the restraints, gnashes her teeth. Already she can feel the drugs inside of her making her slow and weak and dull. She misses her magic like a fire burning. She was powerful, once. She will be powerful once more. 

He _will_ love her again. She’ll make sure of it.


End file.
